


My Moon, My Man

by musette22



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Bisexual Steve Rogers, First Time, Fluff, Gay Bucky Barnes, M/M, Meet-Cute, Pining, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, strangers on a train but with less murder and more sexual tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2020-05-15 06:01:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19289620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musette22/pseuds/musette22
Summary: It’s not that Bucky doesn’t like his job. It’s just that, given the choice, he’d much prefer to start his working day around noon instead of at 8.30am. He’s never been a morning person – though to be fair, it’s not like he’s particularly an evening person, either. Sometimes he feels like he’s barely even a person. And yet, despite his distaste for early wake-up calls, Bucky’s favorite part of the day has to be his morning commute to work.Because every day on the 7.24am train, Bucky gets to see the man of his dreams.AU meet-cute. Strangers on a train, but with less murder and more sexual tension.Japanese translation availablehere





	My Moon, My Man

It’s not that Bucky doesn’t like his job. It’s just that, given the choice, he’d much prefer to start his working day around noon instead of at 8.30am. He’s never been a morning person – though to be fair, it’s not like he’s particularly an evening person, either. Sometimes he feels like he’s barely even a person. And yet, despite his distaste for early wake-up calls, Bucky’s favorite part of the day has to be his morning commute to work.

Because every day on the 7.24am train, Bucky gets to see the man of his dreams.

Goldilocks, as Bucky has somewhat irreverently taken to calling him in his head, is the pinnacle of manhood. An exquisite specimen of a man. At least, Bucky certainly thinks so, but he’s pretty sure the rest of the world would agree if they saw him. He’s about Bucky’s age, tall and muscular in a natural way, nothing like those steroid-pumped gym bros that swarm around the 24-hour gym near Bucky’s apartment block. He's always well-dressed in a selection of bespoke suits, and despite his spun-gold hair, Goldilocks is anything but a dumb blond. Not that he’s been paying close attention or anything, but Bucky couldn’t help but notice that the books Goldilocks tends to read all have complicated titles about art and history, and that, with his startlingly blue eyes that are usually framed by thick-rimmed glasses that suit the shape of his face to a T, he looks unfairly good while reading them. Nobody should look that good while  _reading a book_ , what the fuck.

Bucky’s slight preoccupation (fine, ‘full-blown obsession’, whatever) had begun almost a year ago, when he’d started a new job as project lead for an architectural firm developing an environmentally conscious block of offices in Downtown Manhattan. While it did mean that he had to get up at 6.30am every day, he was truly grateful for having landed the job – and not just because it meant he got to spend a little bit of time with the man of his dreams every morning. Having been discharged from the army on medical grounds only eight months prior, Bucky was desperate to feel useful again. As a man of action, he never could stand to be idle for too long, but the injuries he’d sustained in the field had meant that he’d had to take it easy for a while.

Once he was fully recovered, however, he’d thrown himself into his new job with relish, putting the university degree that he’d obtained before his stint in the army to good use. It had taken him a little while to find his feet again, but all in all he had readapted to civilian life surprisingly quickly and didn’t do too badly for himself. At thirty-two, Bucky Barnes has a nice apartment of his own, a steady income from a job he enjoys, and he’s finally completely rehabilitated from his shoulder injury.

The only thing that is sorely missing from Bucky’s life at present is a boyfriend. A partner. Someone to share his day-to-day life with. Someone to be intimate with. To be perfectly honest, he’s getting sick and tired of his own right hand. For a man of action, Bucky has gotten uncharacteristically little action over the past year. And it isn’t that he lacked options or offers; he knows he’s a good-looking guy, with symmetric, handsome features and a well-honed physique that’s the result of intense physio and a desire to keep fit and strong. Thanks to his defined cheekbones, his steel blue eyes, and his shoulder length brown hair, usually tied up in a bun for work, he’s always attracted more than his fair share of admirers.

So the only problem, really, is that Bucky has somehow gotten himself hung up on a guy who doesn’t even know he exists. And this guy has honestly spoiled him for anyone else. Bucky doesn’t even  _look_  at other people these days. He’s so invested in his  _crush_  (what is he, like, twelve?) that he hasn’t gone out with the purpose of getting laid once over the past year, even though he used to be somewhat of a notorious one-night-stander before he joined the army.

But Bucky doesn’t want one night stands anymore. Bucky wants Goldilocks.

Which is why it's so frustrating that he's spent the better part of a year pathetically pining after the guy. In the past, Bucky had never lacked the confidence to make a move on someone he found physically attractive, even if they were complete strangers. But with Goldilocks, it’s different. Not least because he was always accompanied by his stunning brunette girlfriend – not wife, Bucky hadn’t spotted any pesky rings, thank fuck. The pair was incredibly put together, both obviously successful and affluent in addition to being in possession of ridiculously good genes. Because they were invariably already on the train when Bucky got on, they had to be living near the first stop of the line since Bucky’s was the second. They always sat in the same spot in the same carriage, reading or sending emails on their smartphones, and parting ways with a kiss when the woman got off a stop before Bucky did.

The fact that Goldilocks was so clearly taken didn’t keep Bucky from worshipping him from afar, but it did stop him from going over to get better acquainted. Bucky is many things, but he isn’t a home wrecker. And besides, the chances that Goldilocks was also into men had to be very slim at best.

A few weeks ago, however, Bucky had embarked the 7.24am train to find Goldilocks sitting by himself, the seat next to him occupied by an elderly Asian woman with her grandson on her lap. At first, Bucky had figured the girlfriend was probably sick or on a business trip, but when two weeks had passed and she still hadn’t shown up, he had begun to suspect (hope) that she might not be coming back at all. Of course, that didn’t necessarily mean they had broken up; maybe she’d just found a new job or started working from home.

And because Bucky couldn’t be sure – but let’s be honest, mostly because by this point he’s in so deep that even his usual swagger wouldn't be able to save him now, even if he had any left – he  _still_  hasn’t gone up and introduced himself, no matter how much he despairs of himself when he’s alone in his bed at night, bewilderedly wondering how on earth he’s become the kind of person who looks forward to the start of a new working week.

Today has been a good day, though. Bucky got to pitch his new project to his bosses and nailed it, if he does say so himself, his two meetings had been productive, and the post-work birthday drinks for one of his colleagues had been surprisingly good fun.

The drinks are the reason why Bucky is currently taking the 10.20pm train home instead of his customary 6.20 one. When he boards his usual carriage out of habit, for a second he thinks he’s the only one on board until he clocks the lone form at the far end of the carriage. He starts making his way down the aisle, holding on to the seats for support when the train starts to move. Two more steps, and then suddenly, with a rush of excitement, he realizes that the guy sitting there on his own, the only other person on the carriage, is none other than Goldilocks himself.

On cue, Bucky’s heart skips a beat, and he feels a little lightheaded in a way that has nothing to do with the few beers he’s had and everything with the stunning blond sitting a few feet away. As if having an out-of-body experience, he watches himself walk further down the aisle until he reaches the set of seats where Goldilocks is currently sat staring intently at the laptop placed in front of him on the little window table.

He’s not sure what makes him do it, but for some reason Bucky clears his throat to get Goldilocks’s attention. When the man looks up at him and he’s hit by the full force of those baby blues, however, Bucky’s mind helpfully goes as blank as a freshly pressed A4 sheet. He’s aware that he’s just standing there, staring like an idiot, but he can’t seem to get his brain back online, no matter how hard the little voice in the back of his head is shrieking at him to say something,  _anything, you meathead._

From up close, Goldilocks is even more devastating.

It takes the man saying “Hi,” with a curious smile playing on his sinful lips to shake him out of his stupor. But when Bucky opens his mouth and speaks, he immediately wants to punch himself in the face.

“Is this seat taken?” he asks, like a complete moron.

Slowly, the small smile on Goldilocks’s face stretches into an amused smirk. He meaningfully looks around the completely empty carriage. “I think you’re good,” he says.

Bucky huffs an embarrassed laugh, feeling a blush creep up the back of his neck and hoping against hope that it won’t show on his face.

“Right, yeah, of course,” he says, eloquent as ever. “Um. What I meant to ask was, uh. Would you mind if I sat here?”

Goldilocks shakes his head and motions for Bucky to sit down. “I was just finished, anyway,” he assures him as he starts packing up his laptop.

“Sorry,” Bucky says hastily, already getting up again. “I don’t want to keep you from your work –” but Goldilocks is quick to wave away his apologies.

“Really, don’t worry about it,” he insists, taking off his glasses and putting them away too. He looks Bucky over for a moment, his gaze assessing, before breaking out into a dazzling smile.

“I’m Steve,” he says, holding out a hand.

 _Steve_. Finally, a name to put to the face. The breathtakingly stunning face that Bucky wants to see every day for the rest of his life, please and thank you very much. Feeling a little dazed by the sheer wattage of that smile, Bucky shakes Steve’s hand, and he’s already let go again before he realizes he hasn’t introduced himself yet.

“Bucky,” he blurts. “I’m Bucky.”

Steve’s azure eyes sparkle, hypnotizing Bucky where he sits. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Bucky.”

For a moment, Bucky is too distracted by this motherflipping GQ model saying the word ‘pleasure’ to register exactly what Steve had said, but when he does, he blinks owlishly at him. “Finally?”

Steve shrugs. “Well, we have been taking the same train every morning for almost a year now,” he points out, not untruthfully.

Bucky’s eyes widen. “ _Oh_ ,” he breathes, wiping his suddenly damp palms on his thighs. “I – I didn’t think you’d noticed.”

“Oh, I’ve noticed,” Steve chuckles, then looks up at him through his eyelashes. “I was kind of wondering when you’d come and say hi, actually.”

“You were?” Bucky suddenly feels a little faint. “Oh, um. Well, I – I would’ve sooner. Normally, I mean. But you were always with the beautiful brunette, so I figured…” He sucks in a breath, not really knowing what exactly he’d figured, and quickly continues, “Anyway, you two seemed like such a perfect couple, and I guess I was a little – intimidated?”

Steve hums thoughtfully, his eyes turning a little distant for a moment. “Appearances can be deceiving,” he muses. “Peggy and I actually broke up a few weeks ago, we hadn’t been doing that great for a while. I guess we’d just been together for so long that we became a little… complacent, I think the word is.” He blinks, seeming to shake himself, before looking back up at Bucky and finishing, “We were both ready for something new.”

To be honest, Bucky is a little taken aback by Steve’s frankness – he has no obligation to explain himself to a stranger, after all. But he appreciates it nonetheless. Steve has an honesty about him that’s rare to find, these days.

“I see,” Bucky replies carefully. “I’m sorry.”

Steve looks at him a moment, his eyes shrewd, and asks, “Are you, though?”

No sooner have the words left his mouth or Bucky feels himself start to blush. Right. So he hadn’t been quite as subtle has he’d hoped. It’s a little embarrassing, but on the other hand, it does makes things easier; he might as well go all in now, see what happens.

He clears his throat and honestly replies, “Not really, no.”

Steve’s grin is like moonlight breaking through the clouds. “I didn’t think so.”

Despite his burning cheeks, Bucky grins back, and just like that, the ice is broken.

They fall into conversation, Steve telling Bucky about his job as a Sales Director for a swanky art gallery in the Upper East Side and how he’s thinking about switching jobs to become a university art history professor, and Bucky filling Steve in on his time in the army and his passion for sustainable architecture. Now that Bucky’s over the worst of his embarrassment, he and Steve hit it off like crazy, and Bucky can only sit by helplessly as he watches himself tumble head-over-heels over the cliff’s edge on which he’s been balancing for the past year.

Steve is every bit as intelligent, charming and captivating as he’d always suspected, and Bucky is in trouble. Big trouble.

Before he knows it, the disembodied voice on the train announces that the next stop is Bucky’s, and Bucky nearly panics, because he really,  _really_ isn’t ready to say goodbye to Steve yet, not while things are going so well. He racks his brain for a way to keep him close for a little while longer, but to his immense frustration, he comes up empty. In his defense, his brain isn’t actually functioning at top speed tonight and that’s totally, one hundred percent Steve’s fault.

Fortunately, the man in question seems to be one step ahead of him. Looking Bucky dead in the eye, Steve pointedly asks, “Next one is you, right?”, and unless Bucky’s is very much mistaken, there’s a clear dare in his voice.

“Yeah,” Bucky replies slowly, not taking his eyes off Steve’s, despite the urge to bury his face in his hands and squeal like a little girl. “It is.”

When the train slows to a halt, Bucky doesn’t get up. He just keeps looking at Steve, and Steve keeps looking back, the seconds ticking by inexorably. He’s extremely aware of the doors opening, then closing again, and, as the train leaves the station, his heart kicking up in his chest.

_It’s happening._

They don’t speak for the last five minutes it takes the train to reach its final destination. By this point, Bucky’s a little afraid that he’s actually dreaming or that someone spiked his drink and he’s only hallucinating all of this. But, assuming this  _is_  real, if he wondered before whether or not Steve was interested, there’s no doubt in his mind now as to where this is headed. The air between them is electric, crackling with anticipation, and when the train finally pulls into the station and Steve starts making his way to the doors, Bucky wordlessly follows in his wake.

As they step down onto the platform, Steve looks back at him once as if to ask,  _are you sure?_

Bucky bites his lip, holds Steve’s gaze. He feels a little thrill when Steve’s eyes immediately zoom in on his mouth. Steve swallows, then gives a barely perceptible nod of his head, and starts walking in the direction of the exit. Bucky stays a few steps behind him, enjoying the view – it’s a  _great_  view, let’s be honest – while at the same time trying to calm his raging nerves with little success.

It’s only a brief walk before Steve comes to a halt in front of a beautiful old brownstone with an intricate, cast-iron gate and a seven-foot weeping willow in the front yard. Bucky gapes a little. This is a slightly more impressive than his own modest one-bedroom apartment. Steve walks up the steps to the front door, unlocks it, and finally turns around to face Bucky.

All at once, Bucky is struck by the sheer beauty of the man standing in front of him. The moonlight makes Steve’s fair hair shine like a halo and his blue eyes look almost like liquid silver. If anyone, right then, had told Bucky that Steve was a half-god or some equally mythical creature, he would have probably believed them.

The next moment, though, a look of uncertainty suddenly flickers over Steve’s perfect features, and Bucky heart sinks.

Fair is fair; he’d be devastated if Steve suddenly changed his mind and doesn’t want to go through with this after all, but the last thing Bucky wants is to make him do something he isn’t comfortable with.

“Do you –” Bucky starts hesitantly, looking down at his feet, and then up to Steve’s face again. “Do you want me to go?”

Steve’s eyes widen immediately. “ _No,”_ he says, too fast to be anything but genuine, and Bucky can breathe again. “No, just, uh. Could we maybe have a drink first? Or, I mean, not  _first_ , per se, but just like, have a drink and then see how, um...”

He trails off, visibly cringing at his own bumbling. Bucky thinks it might be the most adorable thing he’s ever witnessed.

“Of course,” he says, giving Steve the most reassuring smile he can muster. If a drink is all Steve is capable of giving tonight, then that’s what Bucky will take. “A drink sounds great.”

Steve lets out an almost inaudible sigh, shoulders slumping a little with relief. “Okay,” he says. “Come on in.”

Bucky follows Steve into the house, eagerly taking in the cozy, lived-in interior; the vintage furniture combined with gleaming, modern appliances; the beautiful, evocative artwork on the walls. He doesn’t doubt that Peggy has had a hand in decorating it, but the place is also just very much  _Steve,_ which is probably why Bucky takes an instant liking to it.

While he's busy snooping around, Steve hangs up their coats and then goes to pour them both a drink. Bucky is just rifling through Steve’s excellent vinyl collection when Steve reappears next to him and hands him a tumbler with a clear, amber liquid.

“Thanks.” Bucky lifts the glass in a salute and brings it to his lips. Bourbon. He loves bourbon.

Steve just nods, still looking a bit nervous.

“Hey,” Bucky says gently, lightly touching Steve’s arm. “Am I making you uncomfortable? Sure you don’t want me to leave?”

Steve lets out a weary-sounding sigh. “No. No, I’m sorry. I’ve been wanting to get to know you for a while now, actually, but now that it’s actually happening, I’m just –” He swallows. “Well, I’m a little nervous,” he admits, giving Bucky a small smile that’s still a little tense around the edges. “You see, Peggy and I, we got together in freshman year, when we were fourteen, and we’ve been together ever since. Well, until we broke up, of course.”

He shoots Bucky a nervous glance, and Bucky nods encouragingly, dying to see where this is going.

Steve clears his throat. “Which means, um. Peggy was my first, uh. I mean, my only --”

“ _Oh,_ ” Bucky exhales, suddenly understanding. “Oh. Right, okay. I see.”

Steve has gone bright red now, refusing to look at Bucky directly. “So, I mean, I understand if that’s not what you… What I’m trying to say is, I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to leave, I know it’s not --”

Bucky interrupts him then, realizing that he needs to reassure Steve, make him understand that he’s far from put off and absolutely not about to walk out that door. Quite the opposite, in fact – complicated as it may sometimes end up being, his inner caveman always had a weakness for being somebody’s ‘first’.

“Steve,” he says, trying and failing to catch his eye. “Hey, it’s okay. I don’t mind, honestly.”

Steve blows out a quick breath, still keeping his eyes fixed on the floor. “Are you sure?” he asks, voice barely more than a whisper.

Bucky smiles. “I’m sure.”

They’re the same height, but Steve seems to have shrunk in on himself, so Bucky ducks his head to get him to look at him. When that doesn’t work, brings his right hand to Steve’s face, crooking his index finger under his chin and nudging it up until he has no choice but to meet Bucky’s gaze. The self-doubt marring Steve’s beautiful blue eyes has no business being there, in Bucky’s humble opinion, and he vows to himself to do everything in his power to erase every last trace of it before the night is over.

The moment stretches on, the tension between them growing more palpable the longer they stand there staring at each other.

Slowly, without breaking eye contact and giving Steve plenty of time to pull away, Bucky leans in, and brushes a feather-light kiss over Steve’s soft, full lips.

When he pulls back, Steve’s eyes are closed and he doesn’t seem to be breathing. Bucky can’t help but smile to himself; Steve’s a lot shyer than he first appeared, but all the more endearing for it. When Steve sucks in a shuddery breath and his eyelids finally flutter open, Bucky gently cups the side of his face, stroking a thumb over his cheekbone.

“Let me take care of you, Steve.”

Steve’s eyes visibly darken and he swallows. “Okay,” he whispers.

“Yeah?” Bucky checks again, just to make sure.

“Yes.” Then, as an afterthought, Steve adds, “Please.”

Bucky blows out a slow breath. “Alright,” he says. “But you’re going to have to tell me what you do and don’t want, okay? I don’t wanna assume anything and accidentally try something you’re not comfortable with.”

Steve nods and stands up straighter. He’s still sporting a faint blush, but this time when he speaks, his voice sounds a little surer, more determined.

“I, uh,” he starts, licking his lips. “I think I’ve always known I was bi. Ever since I hit puberty, at least. I’ve just never had the chance to…” He trails off awkwardly, then looks back up at Bucky. “But I’ve always wanted to.”

Bucky chews on his lower lip. “You’ve always wanted to..?” he prompts. “I’m sorry, Steve, but you gotta tell me exactly what it is you want.”

Steve’s blush deepens again. “Sure, yeah. Um. I mean, I want everything, really, but I guess right now, I’d like to, uh…”

“What do you want, Steve?

Steve sucks in a breath and then in a rush, almost as if it pains him to have to say the words out loud, says, “I want to fuck you.”

It hits Bucky like a punch to the gut. He groans, squeezing shut his eyes for a moment, trying to compose himself. Taking his silence for rejection, Steve immediately starts spluttering again.

“If that’s – I mean, if you, only if –”

“ _Yes_ ,” Bucky interrupts him, a little breathless. “Yeah, Steve. You can absolutely fuck me.”

There’s a pause, and then Steve lets out a heartfelt curse which resonates in the strangely loud silence that suddenly hangs between them.

Knowing it’s up to him to take charge tonight, Bucky downs his drink, sets the glass on the coffee table and takes Steve’s empty glass from his hand too. With any breakables out of the way, he takes a step forward, right into Steve’s personal space. Instantly, Steve’s breathing quickens, and when Bucky wets his lips, Steve’s eyes track the movement again.

Emboldened, Bucky leans in again and presses his mouth to Steve’s – properly, this time.

At the first touch, Steve moans helplessly and immediately parts his lips, allowing Bucky to lick into his mouth. Needing to deepen the kiss further, Bucky brings a hand up to the back of Steve’s head, his other hand squeezing Steve’s hip. Steve drapes his arms around Bucky’s neck, eagerly pushing his body closer, and Bucky is thrilled to notice how excited he is already. His hand migrates from Steve’s hip down to his firm, round ass. When he gives it a brief squeeze, Steve accidentally bites down on Bucky’s lip; not hard, but enough to pull a low groan from his throat.

“Sorry,” Steve whispers feverishly against his lips. He presses soft kisses to Bucky’s mouth, tongue darting out to soothe the small hurt. “I’m sorry. You’re just so hot.” 

Bucky huffs out a laugh, shakes his head.

“ _I’m_  hot?” he says, looking into Steve’s eyes. “Lemme tell you something, Steve. I have never, in my whole entire life, met anyone as beautiful as you.”

Steve goes all blushy and bashful at that, and Bucky just. Can’t. Fuck, this man will be the end of him.

He brings his mouth to Steve’s ear, gently biting his earlobe. “You have no idea how much I want you, do you?” he murmurs, using the slight natural rasp in his voice to his advantage.

Steve gives a full-body shiver. With a small, involuntary sound, he suddenly grabs Bucky’s face between his big hands and holds it still so he can smash their lips together hard, pushing his tongue into Bucky’s mouth without finesse, but with plenty of eagerness to make up for it. Bucky may be caught off guard, just a little, but he isn’t about to complain; if this man fucks anything like he kisses, Bucky’s in for a hell of a night. He kisses back just as ardently, all teeth and tongue, his hands roaming freely over Steve’s back.

After a minute or two of shameless necking, Steve breaks away. “ _Bucky_ ,” he pants.

“Steve,” Bucky murmurs, pressing hot little kisses to Steve’s strong jaw. “You wanna show me your bedroom?”

Steve jerks into action, sliding his hand down Bucky’s arm until he can grab him by the hand. He pulls him in the direction of the stairs and doesn’t let go until they get to the bedroom and he goes to turn on the bedside lamps, bathing the room in low, warm light. When Steve turns to face him again, however, Bucky sees that a little of the earlier hesitance has crept back into his expression. In two quick strides, Bucky crosses the room and snakes his arms around Steve’s neck, drawing him into a deep, unyielding kiss. Steve responds beautifully, opening up right away and losing himself, and with it his inhibitions, in the kiss.

It’s hot and it’s wet, and Bucky needs more of this, pronto.

Without breaking the kiss, Bucky walks them back the last few steps to the bed and gently pushes Steve down onto the mattress. Steve goes easily, and Bucky climbs on after him, straddling Steve’s thighs and settling in his lap. Wrapping his strong arms around Bucky’s back, Steve gazes up at him, eyes shining with something that makes Bucky’s skin feel all hot and tingly.

“ _God_ , you’re gorgeous,” Steve breathes, and then the tips of his ears go pink, almost like he hadn’t meant to voice that thought out loud.

Bucky laughs silently. “That so?”

“Yeah,” Steve breathes. “It is.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere, Steve.”

Steve hums, mouthing at Bucky’s throat. “That’s what I’m hoping,”

“Oh yeah?” Bucky bites back a moan. “And where is it you want to get to?”

Burying his face in the crook of Bucky’s neck, Steve mumbles something unintelligible. Gently, Bucky brushes both his hands through Steve’s sunshine hair. It’s every bit as soft as it looks.

“What was that, sweetheart?” Maybe it's too soon for endearments, but it feels so natural that Bucky doesn't even think twice about it.

Steve doesn't either, it seems. He lifts his head, eyes dark and a blush high on his cheekbones and meets Bucky’s eyes defiantly. “Inside you," he says, "Wanna get inside you.”

Bucky’s stomach swoops, all the air leaving his lungs in a rush.

“ _Fuck,_ ” he says, with feeling, kissing Steve hard on the lips once before pulling back. “You can’t just keep – ugh. Just, please tell me you have lube?”

Steve nods, inclining his head towards his bedside table.

“Thank god,” Bucky exhales, scrambling off Steve’s lap to retrieve the bottle from the drawer. He finds a condom, too, and drops the supplies onto the mattress, all the while feeling Steve’s hungry eyes fixed on him. It’s clear how badly Steve wants this, and Bucky feels slightly high on that knowledge. When did his life suddenly get so  _good_?

With slow, deliberate movements, Bucky crawls back onto the mattress, holding Steve’s gaze. He sits back on his haunches, brings his right hand back behind his shoulders to grab the hem of his sweater and undershirt, and pulls them up over his head in one, smooth motion. His hair tie dislodges with the movement, making his hair fall down loosely around his face. When he looks up, Steve is staring at him with his mouth hanging slightly open.

Bucky gives him a crooked smile. “Your turn, Stevie.”

Steve shakes himself, raising his hands to his chest and slowly starting to unbutton his dress shirt. Bucky watches intently as the fabric falls open, revealing tantalizing glimpses of golden skin. When Steve finally slips the shirt off his broad shoulders, Bucky sucks in a sharp breath.

“Goddammit, Steve. How are you  _real_?”

Steve blushes some more, and Bucky is delighted to find it spreads all the way from his face to his neck and down his impossible chest. Steve’s got pecs that put Victoria’s Secret models to shame, his abs so defined you could wash clothes on them. But what really makes Bucky’s mouth water is Steve’s absolutely _tiny_  waist. It’s ridiculous. Hungrily, his eyes trace the way Steve’s broad, muscular torso tapers down into his narrow hips. He’s never seen anything like it, at least not in real life.

Bucky’s fingers twitch, itching to get his hands on him, until suddenly he remembers that he  _can_. He quickly shuffles closer, curling his hands around either side of Steve’s waist, reveling in the feel of the smooth skin and hard muscle under his palms. He lets his hands stray to Steve’s shoulders and his huge biceps, dragging his nails lightly down his gloriously wide shoulder blades.

Steve’s breathing gets heavier under Bucky’s touch (aka Bucky shamelessly feeling him up) and it’s unclear which one of them is enjoying this more, but there’s no doubt they’re both having a pretty damn good time so far. Reaching up with both hands, Steve slides his fingers into Bucky’s long hair and tugs, making Bucky arch backwards and a surprised gasp fall from his lips. Steve dives in, attacking Bucky’s exposed throat with his mouth, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin while he curls and uncurls his fingers in Bucky’s hair.

Through the haze of arousal, Bucky manages to wonder how the fuck Steve figured out that he loves getting his hair played with within an hour of meeting him. He’ll have to ask him about it later, because for now he has rather more urgent issues. Pressed up close against Steve, Bucky can feel himself go from half-mast to fully hard in the span of about half a minute, and before long, he needs  _more_. He puts his palms on Steve’s chest and pushes him back onto the bed, settling between his thighs and making quick work of unbuckling his heavy, leather belt. With a final look up to his face to check if he’s still up for this (he is), Bucky grabs the edge of Steve’s dress pants and boxer briefs and tugs them off his narrow hips in one go.

For a moment, neither of them moves.

Okay. So  _all_  of Steve is big.

“Oh, I’m gonna enjoy this,” Bucky mutters darkly, not taking his eyes off Steve’s beautifully thick, hard cock.

Steve gives a breathy chuckle and sits up, pushing off his pants all the way before pulling Bucky to him, kissing him again.

“Can’t fuck you with your pants on, baby,” he whispers against Bucky’s lips.

Bucky lets out a startled sound, somewhere between a laugh and a moan, and hastily takes off his own jeans and underwear, discarding them to the side of the bed. Steve grabs hold of him again, spinning them around. He pins Bucky to the mattress with two strong hands encircling his forearms, grinding his erection down onto his, making them both groan. Bucky reaches down and takes them both into his right hand, stroking them together, their precome easing the slide of his palm. Steve’s hips stutter, breath hitching as he presses his nose into the crook of Bucky’s neck, teeth scraping over skin. It feels so good that Bucky can’t help but tighten his grip a little, running his thumb over the heads of their cocks. Steve makes a throaty sound, his muscles tensing, and Bucky regretfully lets go again - they’ve waited too long for this for it to be over so soon. Still, Steve lets out an almost-whine at the loss of friction.

“Shhh, sweetheart,” Bucky murmurs against the swell of Steve’s shoulder. “Just wait, I promise it’ll be even better when you come inside of me.”

Groaning loudly, Steve rolls off Bucky and onto his back, throwing a massive arm over his eyes.

“Jesus,” he breathes, heartfelt.

Bucky sits up, grinning to himself as he takes a moment to look Steve over. God, he just can’t get over it. Steve is a  _specimen_. It’s just plain unfair to the rest of the male population.

Suddenly desperate to taste him, Bucky slinks down Steve’s body, bringing his mouth to Steve’s dick and swallowing him down, almost to the root. Steve gives a strangled shout, his hands flying to Bucky’s head, tangling in his hair again as Bucky lets his lips glide easily up and down Steve’s length, the taste of his precome, salty-bitter and satisfying, on his tongue. Meanwhile, Steve moans like he’s never had a suck job before, and, okay – Bucky is well-aware that giving head is one of his particular talents, but he’s never had anyone respond quite as enthusiastically as this, and he  _loves_  it.

Bucky sucks harder, and Steve starts babbling, praising and cursing Bucky in equal measure, hands on the back of his head unthinkingly forcing him up and down his shaft. Lucky for Steve, Bucky loves being manhandled in bed, and he moans around Steve’s cock, knowing that the added vibrations will drive him mad. He cups Steve’s balls in his left hand while he takes him down his throat as deep as he can, making it messy, sloppy and eager, the way he’s quickly learning Steve likes it.

When he feels Steve’s getting close again – which is sooner than he’d like – he gives him a final, hard suck before pulling off with a filthy, wet sound. Steve is breathing hard, his chest heaving and the muscles in his thighs trembling. Smoothing his hands up and down Steve’s legs, Bucky massages them to ease some of the tension, before reaching for the lube off the side of the mattress. He feels Steve follow his movements with hooded eyes, watching as he pops the cap off the lube and coats his fingers in the clear substance.

When Bucky sits back on his haunches again, reaching behind himself with his right hand, Steve is suddenly up like a shot, almost falling off the bed in his eagerness to kneel down at the foot of the bed.

“Oh, you wanna watch this bit?” Bucky drawls teasingly.

Steve’s eyes, wide, a little wild, snap up to Bucky’s face. “Are you kidding me?”

Bucky bites his lip. He’s never slept with anyone quite so enraptured before, and he’s loving every second of it. Steve’s eagerness and enthusiasm, his insecurities and responsiveness, all of it. If he isn’t careful, he knows he could easily fall in love with Steve. He thinks he might have already started falling.

Pushing those thoughts aside for the moment, he concentrates on getting himself ready. He circles a slippery finger around his hole, spreading the slick around, teasing himself a little. Carefully, he pushes the tip inside, dipping the first digit in and out a few times before sliding his finger in all the way and circling it around, easing himself into it. Soon, he adds his index finger as well, and with two fingers in he can start scissoring, carefully working himself open, until he’s loose enough to slide in a third finger.

That’s when Steve make a pained sound behind him.

Bucky throws a look at Steve over his shoulder. “You okay there, Steve?” he asks, voice a little breathier than usual.

In lieu of a reply, he feels the soft press of lips against his right ass cheek, luring him into a false sense of security, before Steve suddenly bites down on the tender flesh. Bucky cries out from the sharp pain and the burst of pleasure it evokes. Hands on Bucky’s lower back suddenly push him forward onto the bed so his ass is up in the air, his fingers still buried inside himself. Steve, apparently having lost quite a lot of that shyness from before, spreads Bucky’s cheeks apart further, then dips down and deliberately traces his tongue over Bucky’s rim where it’s stretched around his fingers.

_Holy fuck._

Bucky makes a choked-off sound, which Steve seems to take this as encouragement, because when Bucky retracts his fingers, he goes for it. He eats Bucky out like he’s never tasted anything better in his life, skilled tongue lapping eagerly at Bucky’s hole, pushing inside as deep as he can – which is pretty deep, considering how loose Bucky is already. He adds a finger, too, dipping it in alongside his tongue, pulling gently at his rim, loosening him further. Steve keeps making hungry little sounds in the back of his throat, and as Bucky starts to slowly lose his mind, he thinks, a little hysterically, that Peggy was one helluva lucky lady.

Eventually, and only when Bucky is a shaking, incoherent mess, Steve pulls back. He presses one final kiss to Bucky’s ass, then climbs back onto the bed and grabs the condom, unwrapping and slipping it over his cock in record time.

“ _Please_ , Bucky, can I…”

Bucky turns at the desperation in Steve’s voice, blinking at him through the haze of lust fogging up his mind. He watches as Steve runs a hand through his hair, making it stand up at all angles. It’s strangely endearing.

“Please,” Steve pleads again, “I need to, I need --”

Bucky snaps out of it. “Yes, oh my god _,_ Steve. Yes, c’mon.” He scrambles up, uselessly pawing at Steve’s chest, just because, well, it’s  _right there_ and how could he not. “How do you want me?”

Steve shakes his head, a little frantically. “I don’t know.” He sounds overwhelmed. “God, I – I just, I want…”

“Wanna put me on all fours?” Bucky asks brazenly, too far gone to care if he’s being crass.

Steve doesn’t even dignify that with a reply, just sort of growls and grabs hold of Bucky, manhandling him into position. Bucky is ridiculously turned on by the strength Steve is demonstrating. Something about the fact that Steve could hold him down if he wanted to just gets him so incredibly hot.

Positioning himself behind him, Steve puts one hand on Bucky’s hip while the other guides his length to his ready, waiting hole. When Bucky feels the blunt pressure of Steve’s cock against his rim, steadily increasing until the tip finally slips inside, he lets his head drop forward with a drawn-out groan.

Despite his earlier impatience, Steve is being so careful with him now, rubbing his flank in soothing circles with his right hand as he slowly pushes in further, deeper and deeper until he’s finally buried fully inside of him. Steve’s breathing has gone erratic and labored while every muscle in Bucky’s body is tensed as he gets used to the stretch. He’s not gonna lie; it’s a lot, and it’s been a while. But the fact that it’s Steve definitely helps.

Steve doesn’t move right away, instead waiting for Bucky to give the go-ahead, for which Bucky is pretty damn grateful. He doesn’t always get this lucky with his one-night stands. If that’s what this is. God, he hopes it isn’t.

When the last of the burn has finally disappeared, giving way to that exquisite feeling of  _fullness_  that Bucky loves so much, he gives a little wriggle of his hips, urging Steve to start moving. Steve doesn’t need to be told twice, drawing back straight away before pushing back in in one, long slide.

Steve groans. “ _Christ,_ Bucky. Fuck, you’re so tight.”

Bucky hums, low in his throat, relishing the drag of Steve’s hot, heavy cock inside him as he pulls back. “It’s ‘cause you’re so fucking big, Stevie.”

With a grunt, Steve suddenly slams forward again, punching a shout out of Bucky.

“Yes,” Bucky gasps, “God, just like that, Steve,  _shit_.”

Steve takes the hint and speeds up, pushing into him again and again, and Bucky knows it’s not possible, but he could swear he feels Steve sinking in a little deeper with each thrust. When Steve puts a hand on Bucky’s lower back and pushes down, causing him to arch his back, he inadvertently finds Bucky’s sweet spot and starts hitting it with every stroke. It’s like all his nerve endings light up at once and Bucky shouts again, loud and wanton, curses falling freely from his lips as he pushes his ass back to meet Steve’s thrusts.

“Buck, Bucky,  _fuck_ ,” Steve groans helplessly.

“Ahh, Steve,  _Steve_ , fuck me so good, right there, yeah,” Bucky babbles, feeling his face do something complicated as Steve once again nails his prostate head-on. “ _Oh god_.”

Steve reaches around and wraps a hand around Bucky’s neglected cock, stroking him, not quite in time with his thrusts, but Bucky doesn’t care one bit. It’s feels so, so good to finally have Steve touch his dick that Bucky thinks he might be about to cry. God, he wishes he could kiss Steve right now.

On cue, Steve suddenly slows down and then pulls out entirely, causing Bucky to let out an embarrassing wail, which is cut short when he gets picked up and deposited on his back onto the mattress like he weighs nothing at all.  _Fuck_. Steve immediately lowers himself on top of him, settling between Bucky’s spread thighs. Their cocks slide together, slick with lube and precome, Steve’s triceps bulging as he holds himself up on either side of Bucky’s shoulders. Steve kisses him, hot and open-mouthed. Bucky sighs into it, catching his breath. When Steve eventually breaks away and tenderly bumps his nose against Bucky’s, Bucky very nearly melts into a puddle right there and then.

“’m sorry,” Steve murmurs softly, eyes roaming Bucky’s face. “Needed to see you.”

Bucky inhales sharply and holds his breath as he stares up into Steve’s eyes. Affection wells up inside of him, like the pleasant burn of the bourbon they had earlier, spreading hot and fast through is chest. He doesn’t trust his voice right now, scared he’ll give away the extent of his wayward feelings, so he just kisses Steve again in the hope just enough of it will bleed through.

Reaching his right hand down between their bodies, Steve takes hold of his cock and slowly presses back into him, filling him up again. Bucky’s mouth falls open and his eyes closed. When he suddenly remembers that he could also be watching Steve’s pretty face above him and opens them again, the sight that greets him nearly takes his breath away all over again. Steve’s expression is blazing, eyes never leaving Bucky’s face as he slowly starts to move, fucking into him slow and sweet and so, so good.

Bucky is well aware that his mouth has gone slack and his eyes keep rolling back inside his head every time Steve buries himself inside of him, but he can’t help it, and frankly, he’s past caring. It’s just too good. Steve drops down onto his elbows, putting his face only an inch or so from Bucky’s, then leans down to kiss him again, his tongue hot, pressing deep, like he can’t stop kissing him, his hips all the while maintaining their leisurely pace. Bucky’s hands clutch at Steve’s back, drawing him closer, and when he slides them down to knead Steve’s glorious ass, Steve moans, his hips snapping forward more forcefully.

“Ahh,” Bucky breathes, strangled. “Yeah,  _yes_ , that’s it, Steve. Fuck me hard, c’mon, make me feel it.”

Steve stills for just a second, before suddenly doubling down.

“You want me to fuck you hard, baby?” he grunts, biting the words into Bucky’s mouth. “Ruin that sweet little ass of yours, make you scream, hm?”

 _Jesus Christ._  Bucky whimpers, drawing up his knees to pull Steve in deeper, and Steve shifts, sitting up and taking hold of Bucky’s calves, pushing his knees backwards until he’s nearly folded in half. Oh,  _goddamn_ , Bucky has a soft spot for this position. At this angle, Steve can really go to town, his body pinning Bucky’s bent legs to his torso as his hips start snapping forward with a bruising force, relentlessly filling him up again and again until Bucky is crazed and practically sobbing.

When Steve finally wraps a hand around Bucky’s cock again and rubs a thumb over the drooling slit, Bucky knows he’s about to be done for. The sight of Steve’s flushed cheeks and heavy-lidded eyes almost push him over the edge right then and there and he lifts a shaky hand to Steve’s face, touching his slick, kiss-swollen lips. When Steve parts them to suck Bucky’s fingers into his mouth, moaning around them, Bucky just –  _loses it_.

With a broken shout, he comes, all over Steve’s fist and his own stomach, the muscles in his lower body all clenching as the orgasm rages through him. Distantly, he can hear Steve groan his name again and then he’s coming too, jerking above him and choking out beautiful little “ah, ah, ah” sounds as he buries his release deep inside of Bucky.

For a while after, the only sound in the room is their joint, harsh breathing. Bucky feels spent; heavy but light at the same time. It takes them a while to get their breaths back, but Steve does eventually slip out of him, making Bucky wince as his tender hole suddenly clenches down on nothing. He valiantly resists the urge to pout, helped by Steve slowly easing Bucky’s limbs back down onto the bed, soothing Bucky’s muscles with long, firm strokes of his big hands.

Steve gets up to dart into the bathroom for just a second, and from the bed, Bucky watches him as he reappears moments later. As Steve passes by the window, a beam of moonlight that peeks through a slit in the curtains briefly illuminates Steve’s statuesque form, making him look suddenly regal, almost untouchable. Bucky swallows and for a heart-stopping moment feels wildly inadequate in the face of such otherworldly beauty.

But then, Steve is back, leaning over him, real and solid, cleaning Bucky’s stomach with gentle but sure swipes of a washcloth. Bucky lifts a hand to smooth his palm over the soft, warm curves of Steve’s ribs as he tends to him, as if to ensure himself that Steve is still the same guy who’d bashfully stumbled his way through confessing what he wanted from Bucky not a few hours earlier. When Steve smiles down at him, affectionate and soft, something inside Bucky settles. He’s not sure what he ever did to deserve this, but whatever it is, it must’ve been something real good.

As soon as Steve lies back down on the mattress and pulls Bucky on top of him, Bucky wraps his arms and legs around him and lets out a sated sigh. He lays his head on Steve’s chest and listens to Steve’s heartbeat, strong and steadfast, slowly settling under his ear.

Bucky doesn’t know how long they stay like that, wrapped up in each other, but eventually, inevitably, Bucky’s rational brain starts back up. Slowly but surely, doubt starts to gnaw at his insides, and he tries to ignore it, push it down, but the longer they lie there, the stronger the urge to get up and get out of Steve’s hair gets. It’s not that he wants to leave – that’s frankly the last thing he wants to do – but he’s also aware that he shouldn’t presume or overstay his welcome. If Bucky knows Steve at all by now, he’s far too polite to kick Bucky out himself.

With a heavy heart, Bucky lifts his head. “I should probably go,” he says, struggling to hide the regret in his voice.

For a second, he could swear a flicker of something like hurt passes over Steve’s handsome face, but it’s gone again before he can be sure.

“Sure,” Steve replies after a second, voice carefully neutral. “If that’s what you want.”

Bucky frowns, searching Steve’s eyes.  “And... if it’s not what I want?”

It’s the right thing to say.

“You could stay,” Steve offers immediately. “We could, um. We could take the train together in the morning? If you want?”

Bucky doesn't stand a chance against the dopy smile that's slowly taking over his face, but it doesn’t matter, because Steve’s face is doing the same.

Take the train together.

No more pining from afar. No more wondering what those plush lips would taste like, or how that golden hair would feel under his fingertips. And if he’s lucky; sitting next to Steve each morning before parting ways with a kiss, then doing it all again in reverse at the end of each working day. Bucky honestly can’t think of anything that would make him happier.

“Okay,” he says softly, still smiling. He takes Steve’s hand and tangles their fingers together, lifting their joined hands to his face to press a kiss to Steve’s knuckles. “Yeah. I can do that.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> The world always needs more Stucky, so that's what I will give it. Thanks for reading, come and shout with me about these two on [Tumblr](https://musette22.tumblr.com/)!


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